


Hoax

by Ukthxbye



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angry Sex, Angst, BAMF Molly Hooper, F/M, Inspired by Music, Inspired by Taylor Swift, One Shot, POV Molly Hooper, Post-Episode: s04e03 The Final Problem, Post-Season/Series 04, Psychologists & Psychiatrists, Sex, its a lot ok?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:13:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25773418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ukthxbye/pseuds/Ukthxbye
Summary: Texts were all he sent and she ignored them. She knows she'll never be free but what does that mean? An offer of help but at what cost?
Relationships: Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper
Comments: 18
Kudos: 65





	Hoax

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Broadwaylover17](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broadwaylover17/gifts).



“Truth is subjective.”

She wasn’t sure why Mycroft said it to her, standing pin neat in one of his many suits. This one a gloomy grey like the unyielding cloud blanket out her kitchen window.

“You don’t have to talk about that… those words are... It’s not in your expertise.” She said, letting the bitter taste in her throat coat the inflection. He’s smart enough to leave it be. At least she hoped.

“May Sherlock contact you? I believe he will anyway.”

“He will?” she huffed with laughter from her chest.

“I—”

“What did I say about your expertise?” She snapped her head to glare. He didn’t shrink at her but his lip ticked at the corner. “Unless you want to listen. Truly know everything… you might want to leave.”

He nodded, and she turned back to the window, expecting to hear him step to the door. But instead heard the shuffle of his leather-soled shoes behind her on the tile. She glanced to her right to see him drop a card on the countertop near her hand.

“Perhaps a neutral third party is required. She is…” he took in a deep breath as she stared at the card. “Very good. And cleared to hear anything classified, including your assistance with his death. Good day, Miss Hooper.”

With that he walked away, taking his umbrella up from the door, the lock clicking followed by a soft whoosh and with a thud she was alone.

Quiet. So quiet, like a month ago. Then everything was so loud it ached her ears that day. His voice cracking over a phone call she wished she could erase. No amount of wine was enough, though. He had something right with the drugs after all, she mused. She understood they’d do it. Anything to not hear his voice in her head. 

She’d run every path in London until her legs ached every day. Every possibility, every word she hung on to like a cliff. She hated it. But hating it didn’t make it stop. It fed it more.

But she couldn’t break the habit of heartache for him. He broke her. And she let it happen, pouring water in the vessel cracked by so many falls. Glued together by two kisses to her cheeks, jealous words from a man who wouldn’t dare be jealous, that wouldn’t dare to be in love, much less with her. On that phone call was the bare minimum. Now that she knows it was under duress, she just added it to the list. 

His friend? As much as friends could be with him. But she loved him more completely than that. Still. Every dark ugly festering moment, he was there. A mistake she’d never shake. 

She picked up the card. Mycroft’s handwriting, precise and cold. An echo across her mind, speaking from years ago. Tiny notes and updates he risked. Her fingers rubbed the textured weave on the paper, too fine for words meant for a Post it note. But the Holmes’ never do anything half way. In her locker, in her handbag, her pocket, handed with a bill for a coffee and pastry. **He is alive** was the content of the majority of them. And she’d smile. Like she mattered. Secrets do that to a person. 

But she moved on nonetheless as she understood the expectations. And she was lonely. She needed another voice in her head. Another scent in her bed. His lingered too long after he left the country. 

She found one note in front of Tom. His eyes slanted at her, and she crumpled the paper into a tiny ball in her fist. It matched the one in her throat when she tried that same smile at Tom. She’s still not sure if it worked or not. Or if Tom liked the hoax they were as well too much to question it.

**It is done. We will be in contact.** Written in a woman’s hand so Anthea, she assumed. 

And she’d played her part so marvellously all those years. She even let Tom be more excited than her. He’d admired Sherlock before, but he kept it to himself because of her loss. She offered the excuse of shock why she didn’t react how he thought she would. They often expect dramatics of her gender. Not that she ever subscribed to them.

But it always turned complicated, doesn’t it, she mused. Sherlock knew. She knew he knew. The game back on and she couldn’t tell him no. Everyone else in the world she might... but him? Never, and he knew it. She knew that he knew. 

She turned as drips of rain began their race to her windowsill and put the kettle on. She could have offered tea to Mycroft, but she just didn’t care enough anymore. Mobile from her pocket and in hand as she stared at the number. Is this person who told him the lies he’s believed all his life? Or just perpetuated them likely, she thought. Could she give me one as well, Molly pondered. A hoax that she never loved him. He never loved her. Just a long elaborate game because the truth isn’t worth it anymore. 

Perhaps her heart might accept it now it was all out. And he hadn’t called. He’d text to say he was sorry. That he was at 221b. The bare minimum. And she let them languish on read out of some concern for him, but it was self preservation too. 

That dull hope when Mycroft showed up today. Wiggling like a worm on a hook in her mind; that she’d had an effect. But he indicated none and only appeared to show a concern. But did Mycroft reach that all on his own?

She dialled the number.

“Dr Marie Salinzer’s office. Please state your name.”

“Oh… I… Molly Hooper.”

“Thank you for calling Miss Hooper. Dr Salinzer is free at 2 this afternoon if you would like a session.

“Yes... I guess… yes, I’m free.

“Thank you for your confirmation. We will text you the location of the office and the code to enter the building when you arrive. Good day,” and click.

Molly breathed in and out before setting her mobile down. She should be used to this.

The kettle gurgled and beeped. Tea bag dropped into the closest mug on the stack of washed dishes from last night. She poured, eyes following the twirl of steam rising like a ghost to invisible vapor. And she waited. The room filled with the soft roar of the grey blanket sky emptying. 

Out of lemons. So she splashed some milk in the cup before taking it and her mobile to the sofa. It buzzed, and she checked without hesitation.

_**Mycroft Holmes: Thank you for responding to Dr Salinzer. I hope you find her assistance adequate.** _

Fingers closed around the case, knuckles white and her teeth bared to match. Nerves tingling up and across her cheeks, crackling like sparks. Every thought now laser focused not to send her mobile crashing into the wall. 

But her resistance iced over the fire, and she tossed the mobile to her side on the soft cushion instead. Always the same, she thought as the anger smouldered. They didn’t deserve her wrath anymore. 

Tea sipped as Toby joined her and she hoped the rain would end before 2. 

-:-

As they advised, she got a text of the address just as she stepped out her door, umbrella opened. The Victoria line was half empty with bedraggled tourists, a liminal time between end of lunch and the work day. She sat, ignoring the afternoon Metro copy she’d picked up and counting stations. Once on the street, she pulled her coat tighter as she walked with her head down, dancing around puddles. 

A plain door, black with a silver touch pad at the knob. The vibration in her pocket soon as she stepped to it and she punched in the numbers slow. The door clicked with a buzz. She pushed into a warm room out of the surrounding chill. 

The woman in a navy blue dress suit appeared, “I’ll take your coat and umbrella. You may keep your bag if you wish.”

Molly murmured a thank you and took her coat off, clutching her bag as the assistant took her other items to a hat rack on the back wall. 

“Please sit. The Dr will see you in a moment. “ The woman gestured to a plain chair near her desk. 

Molly stayed standing and searched the room for cameras, but they were well hidden. She knew they were there, anyway. Probably integrated in the wood grain of the panelling from floor to ceiling.

A door to her right opened. 

“Dr Salinzer. Please come in, Miss Hooper.”

She was a woman in her late 50s, tan pants suit and expensive flats. Silver hair slicked back, not a hair astray and a smile that hid what top lip the woman had. Molly pushed a loose strand of hair behind her ear and shook the outstretched hand quickly as she followed her into the room, closing the door behind her.

More panelling, accented by a tall curtained window behind a large wood desk. A deep brown chesterfield sofa sat against the wall on the side and Molly sat before asked. The green wing-back one now occupied by the Dr sat across. 

Dr Salinzer stared at Molly. She tried to not notice. But only so many times your eyes can scan the room before they have to face the other person, Molly thought. 

“Do I need to start with my childhood or can we skip ahead?” Molly said with a nervous chuckle.

Salinzer sighed with a friendlier smile than before. “ I’m here to provide assistance. You begin when and on what topic you want.”

Molly snickered. “But this is supposed to be about Sherlock Holmes, correct?”

A pause hung between them

“Is it?” Salinzer said as she brought up her notepad from her desk. 

“Mycroft Holmes gave me your number, so that should be understood.” Molly’s mood prevented dancing around the issues at hand. 

Salinzer folded her hands across her lap. “Perhaps I need to advise this. What is discussed in this room is in full patient doctor confidence. He only requested my help out of concern.”

“Concern? Oh. Oh, I see.” Molly nodded as she frowned. 

“I sense some hostility.”

Molly shrugged. “More amusement, really.”

Salinzer cleared her throat. “You find his concern amusing?”

“Yes… yes I do.”

Salinzer brought up her notepad from her lap, “ Do you know why you find it so?”‘

Molly sighed, fidgeting her bag at her side. “As I said… this is about Sherlock, isn’t it?”

“ I will say yes because I believe we should be honest and open with each other. But your amusement…?” Salinzer cocked her head, waiting. 

Molly licked her lips. “I have no reason to hide anything… especially not anymore. But I’m sure they shared their concerns about me regarding him.” Molly made sure she held the Dr’s attention. “So… quid pro quo. I’ll tell you why it’s funny, but I want to know what they said I’m a concern for.”

“I may only speak for Mycroft Holmes as he is not a patient. He gave permission for me to share this if you inquired — “

“It’s because we said I love you… Because I made him say it.” Molly swallowed hard. A risk to press the issue, but lately she couldn’t care less. She didn’t have the energy for niceties anymore. 

Salinzer sighed with a smile. “You’re astute. Yes. There is a concern of… the strained friendship after the confessions.”

“So his sister torturing us and almost killing his best friend again isn’t higher on the list?” Molly snickered and looked away 

“Miss Hooper, I’m not…” Molly spied the woman’s shoulder slump. The first sign of some humanity. “I promise. I’m here to help you.”

Molly licked her lips. “Texts. That is his answer to it all. Mycroft at least showed up at my flat. His brother is doing his hard work for him again. It happened enough, it’s amusing now.” 

“You do understand there appears to be some bitterness,” Salinzer said, not looking at Molly as she wrote something down. 

Molly nodded to herself. “Yes… I’m aware it’s there. I like it some days.”

“Today?”

“Not sure.”

“You understand that he may be incapable of returning the same level of affection?”

Salinzer said it so plainly Molly blinked as her mind caught up. They both looked at each other for a heartbeat and Molly glanced away.

“Sorry to be blunt but it seems to me there is no reason to tiptoe around the issues we both are aware of. You’re smarter and better adjusted than such patronising methods. So—”

“I’ve always known that… It was the expectation.” Molly met her stare. 

Salinzer opened her mouth in a pause. “So this is something you are... resigned to?”

“ Resigned? Or maybe there’s a darker reason. Has to be,” Molly snickered softly. “We have a more similar personality than I or anyone else realised for a long time.”

“And what is that?”

Molly took a deep breath, seeking the exact words. “The inability to face that which is impossible. I never could in my studies. I don’t in my work. It’s how I got where I am. I know that now. It’s what pushes him, for better or worse.” 

“Anything else?”

Molly sighed, “You want me to say I’m addicted to the idea of him.”

Salinzer pulled her face as she shook her head. “Well… I… I would perhaps put it in other terms—” 

“And yet that is your conclusion.”

“OK, I’ll bite... Are you denying the possibility?”

Molly waited. The words said again might hurt. She tried them in her mind without their original devastation, so she spoke them. “No. And I never will. I love him.”

Salinzer made a note on her pad and indicated she waited for Molly to continue with a nod.

“Not a single thing has changed that… will change that. He can never talk to me again. I can never talk to him again… I mean, I have tried that. Recently. Not sure it accomplished anything,” Molly glanced down as her legs, her hands rubbing her thighs as the nerves exposed. But why stop now, she thought. “Like a tiny experiment of my own that I already found the result to. A process I’ve run a million times. But it’s a comfort. A sadness I have a name for. Much better than the more abstract existential one, really.”

“Hmm,” the therapist hummed as her pen scratched across the paper. 

“Your original question was—”

Salinzer nodded. “An understanding he might not be able to return the affection?”

“Yes…. yes. But that isn’t the part that bothers me.”

Sainzer glanced up. “No?”

“It’s that I know he can,” Molly frowned. “Little bits here and there when he just… lets himself go… or he gets ahead of himself. His logic covers his reasons. But thinly.”

“So you believe he does love you?”

“I have no doubt anymore.”

“And yet...”

“And yet… right? That’s the thing. That doesn’t change anything, does it….” Molly shrugged, looking at the floor. Such bland carpet, she thought.

Salinzer frowned. “It doesn’t?”

“Beyond that it can’t be taken back. It’s sad. Open and exposed, but we knew it.”

“Perhaps he didn’t though.”

Molly laughed lightly. “OH he did. He really did. And perhaps he showed his love the best way he could.”

“How’s that?”

“By not exposing mine… well, there was that one time at Christmas.” Molly shook her head with a tight smile “And then until he had to. But I know he didn’t want to.”

Salinzer sat quietly for a moment. “Do you suspect you might project? Giving him more credit than due?”

Molly’s eyes shot back to Salinzer’s. “You got any secrets that would prove me wrong?”

“As I said, patient confidentiality—”

Molly huffed. “Seems a formality at this point.”

“I am a psychologist. The degrees on my wall are legitimate. This is a legitimate session… probably one of many that need to occur. “

“Ok. Your honest assessment then so far. “Molly sat back, arms folded. 

“You’re both at a stalemate. You’re determined to have him in your life anyway possible. I believe he thinks he’ll lose you either way. And that is an unhealthy dynamic.”

“Yes,” Molly sighed, shaking her head. “I’m a doctor too, remember? I took more than basic psychology.” 

“So you’ve self analysed and determined the same conclusions?”

“Yes.”

“And yet you do nothing to change it?”

Molly threw up a hand. “I’ve tried. Maybe he did too. Yes, well, he always made it worse.”

“Perhaps it’s a comfort of its own then?”

“Yes,” Molly nodded. “Something to look forward to. Will we be uncomplicated friends today or will we just stare at each other too long and wish for something else,” She snickered. “Keeps it interesting.”

Salinzer looked at her clock above the desk. “I’m sorry but we do need to end the session but I would like to explore these matters further.” She turned back to look at Molly. “Next Tuesday at the same time?”

“What more is there to discuss?” Moly shrugged a shoulder, lifting her bag on it.

“Oh I think we have plenty. I only want to help you move toward healthy boundaries with him and to assure a healthy future relationship with someone else. That is what you want correct?”

“Yes.” The lie sat in Molly’s throat as she offered a tight-lipped smile as she stood to leave. 

  
  


-:-

She’d ignored the light drizzle of rain on the way home, leaving her umbrella closed. Once inside finger combed her hair in a useless attempt to stop the frizz. 

Toby ignored her as she flopped on the sofa, running every word said in the session. 

“Stalemate.”

She’d said the truth for the most part. What was healthy anyway, she mused. It wasn’t something either of them could find. You don’t do the work either of them do and find any kind of normality. 

She closed her eyes, listening to the rain, hoping it would clear her mind. 

The knock, soft and more timid than he ever was.

“Oh just come in you have a key anyway” she yelled. More angry than she expected. 

He stepped in, damp from the rain. She spied the droplets hanging on his coat and sighed when they flung to the floor when he slipped it off.

White shirt. Tight as always, and she ignored where her thoughts strayed. 

He sat with obvious reluctance in the armchair across from her on the sofa. 

“Your brother told you I went to see her.”

His shoulders squared as she listened to him draw a slow breath through his nose.

“I realise now that text was… not appropriate”

“And a phone call?’

He snickered, but she watched his nerve crumble.

She smiled, “Oh yes, also wildly inappropriate.”

“You must give me some points for recognising that.”

“Sorry. Fresh out of extra credit around here. 

“Are you angry?” He squinted. 

“Always.” She said it with a huff and spied him cock his head. 

“What did she say to you?’

Molly shook her head. “Doctor patient confidentiality.”

“Molly...”

“Ask nicely” She swallowed hard, glancing up at him. 

“Please?”

That word sent a tingle up her spine. In another tone, it would have produced a full chill. Memories are so mixed with it. 

“What do you want to know?”

His lips curled at the corner. “Curious if you got her to break any of that confidentiality.”

“Ah because she’s been your psychologist this whole time.”

“Yes. Mycroft is very… careful who hears information.”

Molly snickered. “He set it all up so I assume he gets to see the files”

Sherlock sighed. “Mine at least. Perhaps yours will remain close”

“I doubt it… God, this is the dumbest thing I ever did.” She huffed. 

“What are you speaking of? Psychotherapy can be useful.” He offered with a lopsided smile. 

Assured she had his gaze, she said, “Having a crush on you”

He shifted in his seat and she smiled to herself at his discomfort. 

“There it is. The thing you can’t talk about,” she said, biting the corner of her lip.

“I can talk.”

Molly shrugged. “She slipped and revealed that you might not be able to return the same affection as me… I don’t think she pulled that from thin air.”

Sherlock drew a deep breath through his nose and met her stare. “I’m at a disadvantage here. She has seen me but had not seen you so I could not suss anything out.”

Molly smiled. “I enjoy having the leverage for once”

“What else did she say?”

“That we are at a distinct crossroads. Or really, I said that in so many words. She just gave a single word for it,” Molly smiled. 

“What’s the word?”

“Stalemate.”

He leaned his head back with a small smile. “Wonderfully specific that word.”

“You agree then?”

He steepled his fingers. “We’ve held out so long. Stared at the chessboard but no good option either way. Well, at least for the king to move.” He turned his gaze to her. “This is a game neither of us can win.”

She looked in his eyes, noting how his pupils looked. Squinting, shaking her head slowly. “I hope you’re not high.”

He grinned, and she noted something base in it, something new that lit up her spine. 

“Trust, if I was, something would have already… begun” His pause accented by his gaze travelling down her form. 

“What?” she said, half closing her eyes, her mouth hung open. Her mouth he stared at without blinking.

“Don’t, Molly,” he said, his voice curt and her eyes opened wide. “You know what the tension in the room indicates even now. One lit match and the whole is in flames.

There’s the solution, crackling across the room like a spark. Something needed to happen and why worry about what burned in the process. She stood and stepped to him, leaning over to whisper in his ear.

“I thought you were so brave… but I guess I was wrong.”

“And I thought you were so much smarter.”

His hands shot up to her hips, gripping across the back to her arse. She resisted leaning back but his hand fell to below her buttocks, turning into her thighs as he lifted and forced her into a straddle on his lap, quickly keeping her upright with a hand to her back. Her hand shot out to steady herself, landing near his neck. She found a fistful of hair. Twisting her fingers into the rain slick curls and aware of his excitement pressing between her legs as one of his hands mirrored her grip at her hip, kneading it with his fingers, long and precise as she expected them to be. 

He leaned his head in, but she yanked back all the harder on his hair until he grunted. 

“Fuck you, Sherlock Holmes,” she gritted through her teeth, holding his stare.

He chuckled, dark and deep, saying each word with care, emphasising them with his lips and tongue. “Then do it.”

One more too long gaze, like the ocean lapping against the shore. It’s always been a battle with them. There are no winners today, she thought, but it’s happening, anyway. 

She released her hold on his hair enough and let his lips crash into hers. Nothing gentle. Teeth found their targets, lips bruised within minutes on each side. The taste of his last cigarette lingering, making her crave to smoke one herself. His nips, cruelly gentle with his top teeth and bottom lip worked down her throat and to her collar bone to a deep bite eliciting a moan and whimper. 

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he stood, carrying her with ease, hands still covering her arse. He dropped her on the sofa without grace and she glared at him.

She licked her lips and said, “We doing this, Holmes?”

His voice lowered. “Take your clothes off.”

His fingers moved to his shirt buttons, undoing each one before pulling it from his trousers and tossing it off. 

She stared as he did his work, but grinned as he paused. “If you want them off me, you do it “

“Once again you…” he closed his eyes tight baring his teeth but with a deep breath, his face relaxed to a sly smile. “Fine.”

With that, he knelled in front of her, grabbing her legs as he flipped her on her back. Her trousers and kickers joined his shirt in a few quick moves. Part of her wanted to kick him in the face, but the desire for something else much stronger now. 

More kisses, his weight pressing and bruising alternating with traded teases from both. Her hand shot down to his trousers but quickly back up.

He leaned up, “Oh… do you hesitate? Take what you want. You accused me of cowardice.”

“No…” she scoffed, running a finger nail up his stomach, digging in a little deeper every centimetre. “It’s just I’ve done all the work all these years. Your turn to pull your weight.”

“Long as that’s what you’re asking for.”

She shrugged. “It’s never been my hesitation. I’m the one that asked you for coffee, remember? Or Christmas when you found the ability to apologise. So… make up the difference if you can.”

He huffed with a grin and his head dropped between her legs with another word.

Aggressively but deftly he teased her clit with his tongue, running one hand up her to grip her breast and the other slipping two fingers in.

She bucked at the sensations overwhelming her. The moans overtook her with every lick and suck. The build almost there.

But then the sensation was gone. She leaned up and opened her eyes to watch him undo his trousers, and she ached all the more.

“You’re an arse,” she whispered, throwing her head back. 

“Oh… did you just almost come?” he said plainly, slipping off his underwear. 

“Yes… you could have finished that.”

“No, lets keep it a little more fair if neither of us wins today. Besides… you like a tease over time,” he said as he placed the tip of his cock down and rubbed it across her clit, her hips lifting to meet it and almost taking him in.

But he restrained himself and she said under her breath. “Just… shut up and fuck me.”

With that he slipped inside, fast but careful and they both shuddered.

His hand left her breast and found her wrist as he began a slow thrust. He leaned forward, and pulled her other arm up, pinning her arms above her head on the sofa. She resisted, and he pressed all the harder.

Nothing like finding out a new kink she mused.

He whispered in her ear as he bit it.

“I will not shut up. My voice will haunt you after today in a new way.”

She squirmed and relished the tight pain as he held her wrist firm.

He continued, nips and his breath teasing, “But I think it already did.”

A deeper thrust, but leisurely. He released her arms, turning his fingers attention to her clit as her ache grew and his kiss trailed down her jaw to her lips.

“Did you see me in the dark night when he fucked you?” he said between breaths and kisses. 

Her hand cracked across his cheek and he laughed stretching out his jaw. “Now now… how did you discover that I like that? Well… at least now I know what you want as well.”

He grabbed her wrists again, gathering with one hand and pressed them into the sofa with one hand, his thumb overwhelming her clit so she couldn’t resist.

His cock worked inside with more forceful thrusts now. “Did you have to bite your tongue not to scream my name instead?”

She whimpered, the scent of his cologne and her perfume in the heat in a heady incense like mix. He had it right though. And she hated it.

“That night you asked me for chips, I fucked him like he was you. And he screamed my name instead,” she sighed, catching his eyes and holding the stare as they matched movements.

“Say my name and I’ll say yours,” he said. His fingers dug into wrists as she arched her back. 

“Sherlock,” she said, her breath catching in her throat as she neared climax. Was he just as close? 

“Molly…” he sighed, with a grunt as she tightened around him. “It doesn’t matter that I love you.”

The crescendo lifted their voices turning to cries but suddenly everything went black.

Toby’s fur in her face made her scream, and she threw him off as her head ached and spun.

She was alone. The sounds and the sensations ghosted across her, but they faded in a moment. A dream of vivid cruelty.

To cry or laugh she couldn’t decide. Not that she hadn’t dreamed of moments like this before. But they were of hazy sweet lovemaking. This was something else.

The laugh came before the tears. The anger, and resignation into an explosive release of energy of years. Wicked words manifested into this apparition still on her skin, her wrist aching for his fingers on them. 

Her heart beat settled, and she wondered if she needed to shower now, sweat plaiting her hair against the back of her neck and she fanned her chest tugging at her shirt collar

And there it was. The soft knock at her door she’d missed. She held her breath as the key slipped in the lock. 

“And the game is still on,” she murmured as the door opened. 

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by Taylor Swift's "Hoax". Also listened to the Wicked Games cover by Parra For Cuva ft. Anna Naklab on the latter half of the story.
> 
> Also very inspired by the video made by Broadwaylover17 with the song. so good! such a perfect fit to Sherlock and Molly in a sad way . https://youtu.be/WQ_lHsaQvXA
> 
> Thanks to Mouse9 for beta and solidifying how this was going to play out so blame her a bit.


End file.
